The Crab Chronicles

Sick to Death of Waiting...

I like people who get into the spirit of Halloween. We have some lavishly decorated houses around here. If I can do so without getting caught, I intend to photograph some of them to share with you.

I have a cute dracula and a ghost, but I don't get all into the holiday much more than that...

I expect to see unusual sights outside of the houses in my neighborhood this time of year, but not necessarily in shopping centers.

So I was outside Eduardo's fixing to walk in and pick up some food for lunch this afternoon, and I notice the car in front of me has a very unusual, um, passenger...

I wonder if he's tired of waiting for the driver to come out of the grocery store?! Got his mouth open - maybe he's singing?!

Bwahahahaha!

Crepes

It's amazing how contrasts in my life keep things lively. I had such a day yesterday. Michael and I ran errands, and I got a haircut, which doesn't sound all that interesting, but I love these cool fall days.

Before I get too much further, I want to make an observation. I have aquaintances who are constantly trying to get their kids to stay out of their way - get out of the house, go stay with other people, watch TV in the basement, etc. They don't like the company of their own kids, which astonishes and saddens me. I actually LIKE hanging out with my son. He's good company.In a few years he will be gone to college and I will miss him terribly. I cherish the time I have with him today.

[Every time I think about that I feel a bit guilty about not including my daughter. I would like to hang out with her, too, but she chooses to live elsewhere...]

I took Michael to Walmart yesterday and we got him some "compression shorts." I had never heard of these until a couple of weeks ago. They are to wear under gym shorts when one is wrestling. They look pretty much like bicycle shorts, I think. After he put them on, Michael wouldn't model them for me. He said it was too embarrassing.

I laughingly suggested we go to Waffle House when we set out yesterday, and he said "YES!" so after Walmart and the library, we stopped for lunch, except I talked him into IHOP instead of Waffle House.  Michael ordered crepes. I had eggs. The crepes were a dessert portion, which we didn't realize would be so small until it arrived. He polished them off in a minute. I called the waitress over and he got more food. It ended up that he ate this: blueberry crepe, two eggs over easy, 4 pieces of bacon, hash browns, and pumpkin pancakes.

We left there and went to pick up a sandwich for Mother and he said "I'm still kind of hungry..."

He likes crepes, and so for dinner I tried making them. I had never made them before, but I had watched my aunt Evalyn make them once. I made two fillings; asparagus in a cream sauce, and a ham/onion/portobello mushroom melange, sauteed in some sherry and butter. The crepes were a little too thick, but not bad. I made a cherry cobbler for dessert.

YUM.

After dinner, Michael said he was really full, and he took a catnap. Fifteen minutes later he said "I'm hungry!" I suggested oreos and milk - that was after he had a big bowl of cobbler. We have to get more oreos and milk...

He's been asleep almost 12 hours now. I think he's growing...

Back to my original premise - I spent a fair amount of time yesterday at Walmart, then made French crepes for dinner. The irony strikes me as funny...

If you are in the Atlanta area and you need an attorney that does divorce, school law, family law, estate planning, or fiduciary law, check out my friend, attorney Kristyne Seidenberg. I've known a lot of attorneys in my 27 years as a paralegal, and Kristy is the real deal; honest and hardworking. She won't charge a fortune, either. I so wish I had known her a few years ago when I was trying to get an IEP for my daughter. Kristy has been a teacher and a court-appointed child advocate and she understands a lot about school law.

Sleeping and Salmon

I was riding in the elevator yesterday and there were two young guys on there. One said to the other one, "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Nothing, man. You?"

"I'm putting a new CD player in my car."

I thought to myself, yeah, I remember those days. Relaxing weekends with nothing to do. 

I have so many things to do this weekend, it's mind-boggling. Nothing earth-shattering, just errands and some writing.You know what though? Those weekends before I lived with my mom and my kids were always rather boring. I hate being bored.

I had to run in Publix last night because we were out of Coco's turkey. The day before, I had gone to Kroger for something and forgotten to get turkey. Last night I realized we are in need of tonic water for Mother. She drinks it all the time because it has quinine in it, which protects against leg cramps. I don't like going to the grocery store, but some weeks I end up going 3-4 times.

Mother's leg is a lot better. The home health nurse came late yesterday afternoon and changed the bandage on the left leg. The edema in the right leg is noticeable but the left leg has been much worse since this started. However, now the left leg is definitely better. Mother liked the nurse and they had a good chat. I am so awful at changing bandages, thank goodness for the nurses.

Michael was so tired Thursday night that I picked him up from school, we stopped by Publix, and he didn't want to come in. I bought my stuff and got back to the car and he was asleep. We went home and he unloaded the groceries for me. I puttered around in the kitchen, and when I came back upstairs he was in the bad, sleeping. I thought well, wrestling just wore him out. I'll let him sleep.

He slept for the next 14 hours straight. I checked on him and he wasn't feverish. About 9:30 I woke him up and gave him a glass of milk and some oreos, and he went back to sleep. It was like feeding a baby bird. He was just exhausted. Maybe he is growing.Usually when he eats a cookie he decides he wants something else, and he goes ahead and eats real food. Didn't work Thursday night. I don't think oreos and milk one night is going to hurt him, though.

We did a very casual supper Thursday night, since Mike was asleep. Mother had smoked salmon with cream cheese and some water crackers. I had a hot dog and an apple.

Friday morning, Michael said "What's for breakfast?" I said eggs, our usual. He said he wanted smoked salmon. He LOVES smoked salmon. I said sorry, the eggs are done.

What did he eat for an after school snack yesterday? Smoked salmon.

We get a good deal on smoked salmon at Sam's. I don't care for it but Mother and Michael love it. I like my salmon fresh.

It's a beautiful sunny day here with temps in the 70's. Perfect fall weather. Y'all have a good weekend. Try some smoked salmon...

Reading Blogs

This may be hard to believe, but I read blogs all the time, and I find them endlessly fascinating. I used to only read adoption blogs, but since I am not in adoption mode any more, I've expanded my horizons.I thought I'd share some interesting blog posts here, for your education and/or enjoyment.

Dan Pearce over at Single Dad Laughing has an awesome post called 16 Ways I Blew My Marriage, which everyone should read if they are married, contemplating marriage, or trying to avoid divorce. I could write one called "16 Reasons Why I Will Die An Old Maid" but people find that depressing. I don't, but I am in the minority. All my closest friends are happily single by choice, though. (Maybe one day when we are old we can all share a house together, like The Golden Girls...)

If you have any interest in 1) homeschooling  2) older child adoption  3) living your faith - or just like to read Mama blogs, check out my friend Cindy LaJoy's blog. She doesn't post every day, but her content is always excellent, and Cindy is a born writer and a passionate advocate for children.

I do still read some adoption blogs. I've corresponded with Marriya about her journey to adopt a little girl in Bulgaria, and I can't wait to read more. I always get a lot out of my friend Tammy's blog because she is an adoptive single mom AND a social worker. She is incredibly wise about adopted kids and their issues. She is in the process of adopting child #2, a little boy from China. I so admire her guts.

When I want to laugh, I read Dooce. Healther is tall and blonde and makes her living by blogging, so I should actually hate her, but I don't. She has troubles, too, just like the rest of us. I don't agree with her politics, but so be it.

Another person who makes me laugh, although we don't agree politically, is my friend Judy. Even though she is in California and I am in Georgia, I like to read about her life. It's like she lives in a small principality run by people who look like Americans, but are actually a subset, Californiamericans. I was born and bred into a world where I am a SouthernBell-american, and dadgum proud of it. Not all of America is one big homogenous glob of WASPS, thanks be to God.

When I want to drool a big puddle daydreaming about food, I check out the Southern Lady Cooks website. One day I am actually going to make some of her recipes. It's so lovely having all elastic-waisted pants...

I used to read Pioneer Woman for recipes, but she hasn't posted anything in a while that I wanted to try. She used to write posts with substance, but now she write more stuff like this one about a horse beauty pageant. Sometimes I wonder if she realizes she became famous blogging about real life, and now she is a "brand," and not a regular person like the rest of us. I don't think she cares.

I guess it's no secret that I am more politically conservative than the average bear. I read an author named Larry Correia all the time and I love his books. He's one of the smartest guys I almost kinda sorta know - he's a cyber friend of my brother's. Anyway, Larry has a blog and I love this entry, See I told you so, which gives his opinion on the election.

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Finally, I got my new computer at my new job, and wow. I have TWO monitors. FOr me, that's a huge deal. I feel part of the twenty-first century. Now I just have to figure out where to look...

No Soup for Me

I love soup. The cool fall weather is making me want to make a big pot of soup.

After ranting about my stupidly expensive grilled cheese sandwich the other day, I ended up back at the same bakery yesterday, because I had to eat a fast lunch and get to a meeting at work. So yesterday I asked for a cup of tomato basil soup.

I LOVE tomato basil soup. I used to buy it at La Madeleine, one of my fave restaurants years ago when I worked near one. [Yes, I know it's a chain restaurant but I still love it.] Their tomato basil soup is rich and creamy and wonderful. You can order it online, I just found out! Here's the link.

Yesterday's soup was, well, sad. It was tomato. It was pureed like baby food. There was no cream in it. There was no salt. It was by someone else's definition "healthy." I hated it. It did not deserve to be called "Tomato Basil Soup" - that implies yumminess.

I Googled tomato basil soup and found Ina Garten's recipe for roasted. I'm sure it's delicious. Not what I was looking for though.

I looked again and found La Madeleine's recipe. It contains a cup of cream! Duh! Be still my heart.I will be making that soon. Or possibly chili. Or Baked Potato Soup, another favorite...

Explain This to Me, Please

I seem to live in a perpetual state of confusion these days. Maybe some of you can explain some things to me.I am getting old.

How exactly does one get high on bath salts? When I was a kid, I like Mr. Bubble, and as a teen I liked to let Calgon Take Me Away. Never thought I'd see the day when some poor idiot would get high on bath salts and go running into church swinging a hammer. I've been to Kingsport, Tennessee. It ain't Las Vegas but there are some things to do at night that don't involve ingesting toiletries and scaring folks in church.

Why is is that food is just so dang la di dah now? I had a grilled cheese sandwich, some potato chips, a coke and two cookies for lunch. Cost me $9! Now, the grilled cheese was "artisan white cheddar on rosemary herb bread" and the chips were made in somebody's backyard in small batches and sold to the folks who ran this fancy bakery in my office building, and they served "real" coca cola in a real glass but c'mon, $9?!?! I could give everybody in my family the same meal for far less than $9. And the cookies were tasteless globs.

How is a small muffin worth $3?! I don't care how much icing you put on it or what snooty name you give it. That's ridiculous.

How do bugs get in my washing machine?! I was taking a load of clothes out of the washing machine and there, in the bottom of the machine, was a stink bug. He was dead - BUT he didn't stink any more. How did he make it through a wash cycle with all his legs and antennas intact?! I buried him in a used Bounce dryer sheet. He obviously loathed life as a stink bug and chose to end it smelling sweet...

Why is there an assumption [by some people] that anyone over 70 is a doddering old fool?! I recently had some "friends" tell me [loudly and obnoxiously, much to my disgust] that my mother needs to be told what to do and I needed to be tough with her. I won't reveal everything that was said. Suffice to say this: my mother is sharp as a tack. So are all her friends. Hell to the NO, I won't try and tell her what to do. I am southern, and I revere my mama. You wanna say ugly things about my mama? You are no friend of mine then. 'Nuff said.

Why is it every time I like a song on the radio, Michael says "That's an OLD one, Mom!" Of course, to him anything that's been out more than a few weeks is "old." LOL I often think, Boy, I have shoes older than you are... Anyhoo, I really like this song by Ed Sheeran, even if it is dusty and old:

 

Ed's a talented guy. I look forward to hearing more from him.

Back to the Wound Clinic

Had a lovely day yesterday, running errands with Bruce and Michael and getting several things accomplished, but today was an ordeal.

I woke up with a stomachache. I spent most of the morning, um, in my room. Close to the WC.  I started feeling better late morning, and then I had to take Mother to the doctor. Fortunately, Bruce had agreed to stay here all day and help me.

Bruce and I took Mother to the Wound Clinic this afternoon for her second appointment. The legs are better. Less swollen. The left one is still very red and tender, however.

We had Mother in her own wheelchair, which was much more comfortable for her.

This morning our first stop was radiology. The doctor had ordered this test where they put a blood pressure cuff on her legs, and we agreed to let the guy do it on her right leg, which is the good one, but not the left one. The doctor wasn't pleased, but we explained that none of us wanted her to be put through that hell. The leg was so tender she hollered when I accidentally bumped it gently this morning. She would have been screaming if he had put a blood pressure cuff on it and squeezed.

The doctor rather reluctantly agreed to go ahead with the Una Boots on both legs. We are going to try letting the visiting nurses come in and change the bandages twice a week. She is due back in the Wound Clinic for a re-check in two weeks.

 The doctor wants Mom to walk more, and keep the leg elevated. Sounds contrary, I know. She wants Mother walking around as much as possible, but several times a day she needs to elevate the legs, too, for the swelling.

Mom had lost 10 lbs since her last appointment, which was on the 5th, so about 10 lbs. in 10 days. 

A Funny note: In the bathroom that's part of the examining room there is a bottle of antiseptic, which looks exactly like what it is. However, written very big on the label is this: DO NOT DRINK THIS. 

We had some time between the two appointments so we went to the cafeteria in the hospital, which is the same building as the Wound Clinic. We got to a place in the hallway where it said: <------ CAFETERIA     PSYCHIATRIC UNIT  ---->  // The message was clear: either eat in the cafeteria OR go to the loony bin. After seeing the cafeteria I realized that sign must offer a real dilemma to some of the patients there. 

Anyway, Mother's journey continues, but she was very brave, and did just fine, and was quite glad to be home. Just keep praying, though...

 Took this of Bruce and Michael just before Bruce had to drive home:

[Michael is standing a step up; he's not taller than Bruce. Yet.]

Wags for Warriors

During your darkest hour, when you think you are completely unlovable, you know where you can get pure love? Unconditional love? Healing love?

Your dog.

I've known this since I was a baby, and our dog Kaiser stood guard over my crib. Dogs have been a source of constant comfort, protection, and joy.

A Facebook friend of mine, Felicia Fago, posted this today:

I found a new favorite charity today: Wags for Warriors. The girls, Lola, and I were at a fall festival for dogs, and this organization had a booth. They rescue dogs and train them to be therapy dogs for Military Veterans suffering from PTSD and TBI. I was so impressed with the young soldier who patiently answered the girls' questions, telling them how his dog wakes him in the middle of the night if he is having a nightmare, makes sure no one comes up behind him to help avoid trauma-affected reactions, and brings him out of flashbacks. Every soldier in need deserves this kind of support, and at a fraction of the cost of other treatments. I love that rescue dogs rescue our Military Vets. The address for Wags for Warriors is PO Box 41191, Brecksville, OH 44141; phone 330-285-3941. Please check out their Facebook page.

This is a link to Wags for Warriors, a wonderful organization. The website is a little odd - put your cursor over the word Home on the lefthand side and pull it downward and you will see all the categories.

My brother spent a year of his life in Iraq, in the Green Zone, and wasn't running around with a rifle shooting anyone, and nobody shot at him. However, he still has nightmares.

What a huge blessing, to train dogs to help our veterans. Please support this awesome charity.

Dee

That's Bro, in the middle, 2008.

Visitors

Nothing makes me feel the passage of time so keenly as being around relatives I've known all my life, and seeing how they have changed over the years. Then suddenly I realize how much I have changed over the years.

As someone famous [I forget who] once said "It's not the years, it's the mileage."

Of course, those of us who adhere pretty closely to a standard of "clean living" tend to show less mileage. I quit smoking and drinking years ago, thank God, so now I can count myself in that club.

Anyway, the only time I have been to Chicago [outside of flying through there] was in 1973, when our family drove up there from Knoxville, to deposit my grandmother with her middle son and his family. Here's one of the cute photos that resulted:  [ignore the black and white spots]

From left, cousin Bill, his twin sister Linda, Mamaw, me, and Bruce. Bill and Linda were 13, Bruce was 14, and I was 11. Mamaw was somewhere around 73, but she never told anyone her right age.

Bill and Linda came over yesterday and had lunch with us and we had a lovely visit.

Here are some photos from yesterday:

Bill, me, Linda. Looking at this makes me even more resolved to get a haircut...

Linda, Bill and Michael.

Bill was in town for a work conference. Linda lives about 45 minutes away, so we don't get to see her often.

Bruce came in later, and Colton came over and spent the night. So dinner was lively. We gave Bruce his birthday stuff. We watched the movie Act of Valor, about Navy Seals. Bruce usually hates military movies because they get all the details wrong, but that's a movie he had purchased, so I knew it would be good. He would stop it periodically and explain stuff to the boys. They were impressed, I know. 

I changed the bandages on Mother's legs, and they are clearly better. Not 100% by any means, but better. Thanks be to God.

So it's been a busy but terrific weekend, so far..

Bill Due

Saturdays are not usually crazy busy days, just regular busy, but this one is going to be an exception to that. That's OK. It's good stress, not bad.

I have a cousin, Bill, I haven't seen in years because he lives out in Washington State, but he is in town and is coming by to have lunch with us, and a quick visit. I so look forward to seeing him, and his sister Linda. I hope my brother will get here in time to see him. We never know exactly when my brother will show up - he usually just tells us the date..

When Bill called last night and I answered the phone, I just heard a deep voice say "Dee, this is your cousin." Well honey my mental Rolodex started spinning like crazy, because I have about a dozen cousins that I know and am in occasional contact with. I thought at first it was my cousin Tony, but then I thought "Dude, you have a cold, or what?" because his voice isn't that deep usually. Anyway, within about 2 seconds I realized it was Bill.

If you do not recognize the word "Rolodex" you are probably under 30. You see, back in the pioneer days, we had to write down people's phone numbers on little pieces of paper and put them in alphabetical order on this thingy called a Rolodex. You might can still see one at a yard sale, or in a museum.

DANG I am OLD!

I made Bruce's birthday cake last night, a chocolate cream cheese pound cake. Mike was in a foul humor until I got the cake in the oven and hollered at him to come lick the beaters and the bowl. Suddenly he sweetened up.

Such is the power of chocolate.

Here I am with some of my cousins in about 1972. From left, Linda, me, Robert, Bruce, Bill.

I don't know why I look like such a doofus. Probably because I was only 10 and had already grown boobs. That made elementary school horrible...